


Adonis

by Tigerine (sealink)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Unrequited Lust, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sealink/pseuds/Tigerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Work on Toue's latest project is behind schedule. Irritated with the delays, he sends his two thugs to Research and Development to see what the holdup is. Despite it being the weekend, sometimes you just have to get things DONE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adonis

**Author's Note:**

> The sexual activity occurs between a female original character (who I named simply to avoid using "the woman" over and over) and Trip, but the fic is not really about her and Trip at all, but more about the tension between Trip and Virus. So I have marked it as both F/M and M/M to reflect this. 
> 
> Thank you to my fabulous beta Ari for their speedy reading~

Virus eyes the arrangement of artificial penises strewn across Toue’s desk with a dubious look. “We’re not really suited for this kind of work,” he protests.

“Nevertheless, you will do it,” Toue snaps. “Those techs are behind schedule as it is.”

Virus looks to his left, at his taller partner; Trip seems incredibly interested in the scrollwork that covers the windows and frames the view of Platinum Jail beyond. He’s not going to go to bat for Virus, not that he ever has against Toue. There are certainly perks to having someone else take care of the wet work; the drawbacks are that he is often the mouth of the pair. Trip rarely pipes up during these meetings with Toue. Virus wishes that he could spend his time similarly disengaged.

This whole business of building an android is what Toue is most taken with these days, now that his plans to exploit an indigenous people in the Americas have fallen through. The sudden (and rather costly) end to that particular project meant that the android project is now on the fast-track. It is hardly a surprise that the engineers don’t have every part ready, and Virus very much doubts that anything will come from sending his two lead thugs down into Research and Development. With a small sigh, Virus neatly folds his hands together and inclines his head toward Toue. “Of course,” he replies.

Toue turns away, looking out the window and flapping a hand dismissively at them.

Virus turns to go and Trip ambles after him, hands shoved in his pockets, his shoes scuffing the floor. Virus rolls his eyes as they close the door; Trip does that on purpose when they’re up this high in the tower. He knows they’ll have to bring the floor buffing team up here to get rid of the black marks he leaves on the floor.

“So we’re going down there?”

“Of course we are,” Virus retorts.

“Sounds boring,” Trip says, stretching and letting a yawn creak out of him. “Are we doing this now?”

“I’d rather get it over with,” Virus says, examining his Coil as they walk toward the elevator.

“It’s already past six o’clock,” Trip complains. “It’s a waste of time to do it now.”

“We can get back to what we usually do faster, Trip.”

“Oh?” Trip muses.

He means Aoba and the nascent Rhyme teams, of course. Even though Aoba has given up Rhyme (with Virus and Trip’s ‘help’) there are still multiple teams to be managed. And, of course, there’s Morphine and its mind-bending effects to be tested, but they have been promised the use of Midorijima’s prison population for that. Still, the singsong note of interest in Trip’s voice betrays his eagerness.

“You’re easy to manipulate,” Virus sighs.

“You should know,” Trip retorts. “You’ve been doing it for years.”

“Let’s just get this over with.” Virus opens the elevator doors and steps in. Trip follows after him, letting his outstretched hand smack the top of the elevator door. The doors close with a polite chime and they descend down into the bottom of the tower.

Research and Development isn’t actually in Oval Tower proper; it’s part of an outgrowth of buildings that extends into Black Valley. It was Toue’s idea to make Black Valley an industrial-themed district. It let him hide the ugly guts of running a city in plain view and call it window-dressing. R&D is in a non-descript office building close to where Black Valley meets Oval Tower in the center of Platinum Jail. They receive a few strange looks from local partygoers as they head for the building’s exterior door. If anyone thinks of saying anything, one look at Trip’s broad-shouldered frame dissuades them.

Their company keycards open the locks easily and they end up in the dimly lit corridors, heading for Robotics.

“No one’s here, Virus,” Trip complains.

“I am still going to check, Trip,” Virus replies. “Just because your work ethic doesn’t allow you to work after hours doesn’t mean that others don’t.”

“For Toue?” Trip snorts. “He’s a boss, not an emperor.”

“He may as well be an emperor,” Virus replies calmly, “for all the disobeying him we are going to do.”

Trip folds his hands behind his head as they walk, making a face. “Tch, I don’t get why his robot has to have a dick anyway.”

Virus stops, turning and looking at Trip, silent.

“What?”

“Never mind, Trip.” He really is quite unobservant sometimes. “We don’t question what he wants done, we just get it done.”

“You have to be curious.”

“I am not curious.”

“Not at all?” Trip wheedles.

“Not at all.”

“You’re no fun,” Trip pouts, but his expression says that he is more disappointed that Virus didn’t want to spill details of the workings of his mind. In the beginning of their relationship, Trip often made power plays for Virus’ weak points, and Virus always repelled him. Now, he did it mostly as a sort of inside joke between the two of them.

“Here,” Virus says, stopping outside a card-restricted door labeled _Robotics_. “This will only take a moment.”

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s here,” Trip mumbles against the security window, tilting his head one way and then another to look at the interior of the lab.

Ignoring Trip, Virus slides his keycard through the access point and an audible bolt action reverberates through the steel casement door as the electronic lock disengages. The interior of the lab is dimly lit; the evening cost-saving measures have shut off half the lights.

“Yahoo,” Trip calls out in a melodic voice.

“Trip—“ Virus is about to reprimand him when the sound of quick footsteps reaches them from the back of the lab.

“Watanabe-san? Is that you?” A soft voice, high-pitched and feminine.

Virus glares at Trip as he turns to meet the approaching woman. He reaches into his inner jacket pocket, withdrawing a card case as the woman turns the lights on.

“Who are you?? How did you get in here?”

She’s mousy, with large glasses and an oversized cardigan shrugged over her thin shoulders. She peers at them curiously and Trip reaches into his pocket, flashing his access card as he rolls it over and between his fingers. Virus offers his card with both hands, his plastic smile perfectly in place.

“I am Virus, and this is my partner, Trip,” he says as the young woman takes his card with both hands.

“No relation,” Trip pipes up.

“Virus and… Trip,” the young woman parrots, not even bothering to look closely at Virus’ card; she is still eyeing the pair of them suspiciously. “Shinohara Chie,” she says, holding out her hand to Virus.

“Ah, Shinohara-san,” Virus says, his smile widening as he grasps her hand in a gentle handshake. “We’re from Oval Tower—“

“Oval Tower??” Shinohara’s voice is shrill and Trip makes a face of obvious irritation with it. Virus’ face remains the same.

“Yes, there seems to have been a slight misunderstanding about some of the specifications of the new android model.”

“What kind of misunderstanding?”

“The dick isn’t big enough,” Trip says.

“Not big enough? It’s well within average parameters for a male member.”

“That seems to be the trouble, Shinohara-san,” Virus says, before Trip can respond. “Toue-san seems to think that the designs could benefit from some…” and here, Virus cannot help but make the concordant motions with his hands, “scale adjustments.”

Shinohara looks from one of them to the other, her face frozen in disbelief.

“You’re joking, right?”

“I’m afraid we are not, Shinohara-san.” Virus says regretfully. “So if you would just let the engineer in charge of that module know, we’ll be on our way.”

“I’m the engineer in charge of that module,” she snaps. “And there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Oh?” A teasing lilt enters Trip’s voice and Virus cringes inwardly.

“Sure, come on back, I’ll show you,” she says, and waves them back into the hallway with her.

“Don’t forget you had other business you wanted to attend to,” Virus warns in a low voice as Trip walks past him.

“Something more fun came up,” Trip replies, a smirk curling his lips.

All Virus can do is follow along with the two of them and hope that whatever happens, it won’t take up too much time. They trail back through hallways lit by safety lighting and the occasional exit sign, Trip loping forward like a wolf and Virus walking with one hand tucked into his pocket. Shinohara’s short, quick steps click on the linoleum as she stops in front of a set of double doors. “Sorry about the mess,” she says apologetically. Trip’s leer doesn’t change, and Virus’ expression is just as unreadable as before.

The back of the lab is a scattered battlefield of half-constructed robotic arms, materials testing, black, acid-proof lab tables and wiring harnesses. On one rubberized lab table, a humanoid metal frame lies half-completed, its guts pulled out on the surface next to it. A soldering iron and a roll of flux sit next to the carcass, abandoned mid-task by whatever engineer left for the day.

“As I said before, there’s nothing wrong with that module,” Shinohara says, stepping behind one lab bench.

“Toue-san seems to disagree,” Virus says, slipping his hand out of his pocket. He folds his hands in front of him in a show of politeness, but his practiced smile is perhaps a little too practiced next to Trip’s intense interest.

“Who did you say you were again?”

Virus’ smile freezes in place and Trip chuckles. “We’re Toue’s hands,” he says. “If something needs to be touched, we reach out and get it.”

It’s something about the way he says it, something about their garish clothing and Trip’s overuse of cologne that finally tips her off. Shinohara’s eyes widen as realization dawns that she’s got two yakuza in her lab.

“I didn’t realize he’d be sending people down here to check on progress,” she mumbles. “You have to believe me, I’m really doing everything I can to make sure that this project is a success!”

“Of course, Shinohara-san,” Virus coos, “We are quite certain that you don’t want any trouble of any kind.” He looks at Trip and Trip grins wider at him before turning his toothy smile on Shinohara.

“But he’s got things he wants done a certain way, right?” Trip volunteers. “He’s got standards.” Trip leans one hip against Shinohara’s lab bench, folding his arms across his chest.

“He does indeed,” Virus says.

“But you don’t understand! This project is already ahead of schedule for where it should be--”

“Not since Toue-san fast-tracked it,” Virus interrupts. He opens a screen on his Coil, checking his figures, although he already knows them quite well. “You are now two months behind schedule, according to the updated timetable.”

“We were a _year_ ahead of schedule before that!” Shinohara fumes. “And he keeps making design changes and—“she stops as she realizes that she is yelling at a pair of gangsters that might very well have the means (and inclination) to leave her in a trash bag behind a ramen shop.

“Please,” she says in a softer voice, “We’re working as fast as we can with the limitations we have.”

“And what limitations are those?” Virus asks, closing the screen on his Coil. “I’m sure Toue-san would be happy to lend his assistance in clearing up any roadblocks that are delaying his project.”

Shinohara bites her lip as she faces the pairs of unnatural eyes staring at her. “There have been so many setbacks,” she says weakly.

“Can you name even one?” Virus asks silkily, his eyes briefly moving to Trip before settling back on the engineer.

“The biggest one is probably the constant redesign process,” she says quietly. “Every time we design a new module—“

“You mean a new dick,” Trip says.

“A new _module_ for the android,” Shinohara reiterates pointedly, “It has to go through at least two committees.”

“But this is not a new module, Shinohara-san,” Virus explains with patience he doesn’t really have. “This module was approved in the secondary design stages.”

“But the actual… _device_ ,” she says, avoiding the word ‘penis’ for as long as she possibly can, “Toue-san won’t approve a model no matter what I send up there.”

Virus smiles. “Toue-san is very discerning in his tastes. He wants everything to be perfect for his project.”

Shinohara holds out her hands, spread in a helpless gesture. “We simply don’t have any models to go from that offer what he’s looking for—“

“Wait.” Trip held up a hand. “Say that again.”

Shinohara blinks and then looks at Trip before slowly repeating herself. “We don’t have any models to achieve the effect Toue-san wants.”

Virus’ smile melts off his face and he looks at Trip. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing—“

Trip ignores Virus and walks around to the other side of the bench, looming over the diminutive Shinohara. “Get your sketch pad,” he says.

“Trip, we do not have time for this.”

“Sure we do,” Trip says, sliding on a lab stool and unbuckling his belt. “We’re just helping the project along. Right, Chie-chan?” He nods to Shinohara, who is looking back and forth between them with mounting distress.

“Shinohara-san,” Virus says, looking much put-upon, “We apologize for the intrusion on your time. You must have things that you still need to do before closing up the lab.” He looks at Trip. “We’re leaving.”

“Virus…-san,” Shinohara says haltingly, “If there’s something that can be done to make this module a success, I’m open to ideas.”

Virus can almost hear the beaming smile radiating off of Trip’s face. It sounds an awful lot like the sound of a zipper being lowered. He removes his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose, hoping that when he looks back up, he won’t see what he hopes is not happening.

Sadly, today is just not Virus’ day.

Shinohara, to her credit, doesn’t stare too much at Trip’s crotch at first. She fumbles around, looking for a pencil, looking for a pad of paper and coming up with a lab notebook. After a moment, she stops and then reaches behind her ear, slipping a pencil out of her bun and preparing to draw. She looks at Trip expectantly, pencil poised over her paper.

Trip stands up briefly, unclipping his braces and lowering his trousers and underwear, with a snort at the soft “oh _God_ ” from Virus. He settles himself back down on the lab stool, sliding his hand under his sack and settling it on top of his thighs. He leans back against the backrest, his eyes sliding lazily over Shinohara’s face. “Draw it.”

Shinohara’s mouth hangs open a little, but it’s unclear if this is because of the dimensions of her model or Trip’s bold presentation. She remembers the pencil in her hand just as she seems to regain control of her wits and begins sketching, her hand making precise movements across the page.

“You’re…exactly what we were looking for,” she says.

“You hear that, Virus?”

“No, I did not.”

“She said—“

“You don’t need to repeat it.”

“Ah, you never like to have too much fun, do you, Virus?”

Virus pins him with an exasperated glare. “This is not really very ‘fun’, Trip.”

Trip smirks and looks back to Shinohara, who has crept closer to Trip, examining his soft cock with equal measures of professional and personal interest. She keeps her pencil moving, though, and then moves to the side for alternate views, the scratch of her pencil audible in the quiet lab.

Trip is fairly preening under the attention, but it doesn’t seem to actually arouse him at all. Most of the pleasure he’s deriving from this situation is from the extended discomfiture of his partner. In fact, Virus is quite sure, if he had been encouraging of Trip’s behavior in the first place, he would not be in this predicament.

“What was that?” Trip’s voice sounds positively pleasant, even cheerful, and the sound makes Virus’ hand clench in his pocket.

Virus looks at Shinohara, who is wearing a regretful expression. “I said it’s a shame I can’t see it fully erect,” she repeats.

Trip’s mouth splits in a smile and he looks down at his dick and says, “Keep drawing.”

Almost as an answer to her request, Trip’s cock slowly begins to fill with blood, thickening and growing in length. Shinohara’s sketching style changes from small, precise movements to more dynamic pen strokes, capturing the movement of his flesh as it twitches to life.

“Can you keep it like that for a second?”

“Sure,” Trip replies graciously, and his erection flags on command, resting in a half-tumescent state on top of his balls as she moves around it, drawing and shading. The two of them seem to have forgotten Virus is in the room with them at all.

Virus finds himself quite unable to ignore the way Shinohara is fawning over Trip for being able to do something so simple as have a normal physiological response. He doesn’t expect the mousy engineer to be so forward, getting closer and closer to Trip’s crotch. He certainly doesn’t expect the next words out of her mouth.

“Can I touch it?”

Virus makes a sound of disgust and Shinohara looks at him, her face going completely red. Trip’s gaze slides to Virus, and something vicious flashes across his face.

“Sure,” he drawls, his lip curling in a grin.

Virus watches as she stabs at Trip’s half-hard dick with the eraser end of her pencil. Trip catches her wrist in his hand and clucks his tongue. “Be careful around that,” he says, and then he looks at Virus. “I’ll need that later.”

“I should do the sculpt right now,” she mutters, “while I have you here.”

“Sounds good to me. What do you think, Virus?” Trip leans against the backrest, holding Virus’ eyes with his.

Virus glances back and forth between them. Somehow, he’s lost the power in this set of negotiations, and he is not quite sure where. “I think it would be best if we left.”

“You’re no fun, Virus,” Trip says, grinning. “Chie-chan was just about to make sure I get my weekend off to a good start.”

Virus glances at Shinohara, and she’s gone completely red-faced, not quite able to meet his eyes. “I…”

“Come on, Chie-chan,” Trip says in a playful voice. “Virus doesn’t mind—“

“I certainly _do_ mind—“

“And in any case, it’s for the project, isn’t it?” Trip captures her hand in his, oozing charm (or as much charm as one can ooze with one’s cock out in the cold air of a research and development robotics lab.)

“If… if it’s okay, I guess so,” she stammers.

Trip grins, but his eyes are on Virus, cold and direct. Virus recognizes the look of challenge, the set of his jaw, the lift of his eyebrow. It’s just one more way Trip is making a bid for personal power in their relationship.

“Of course it’s okay,” Virus says evenly, his serene mask falling into place. He would deal with Trip later.

Shinohara’s eyes dart between the two of them like a frightened hare. “If this is—“

She’s interrupted by Trip reaching out to take her hand. He pulls the pencil from it, tossing it on the lab bench. “Here,” he says huskily, pulling her hand to his dick. “Touch it.”

As her fingers drift over his heated flesh, he murmurs approvingly, “Good girl.” Shinohara is bright red, but she responds well to his encouragement, curling her fingers fully around him. Trip looks to Virus, a sardonic tilt to his lips, and at first, Virus can almost hear him gloating, but as Shinohara begins to stroke him, she looks up at Trip for approval and more than once, finds him staring at Virus.

“That’s it, right there,” he moans and Virus thinks— _knows_ —that it’s exaggerated for her benefit.

Trip’s cock is well past the state of half-hardness he’d stopped at before, well on his way to being fully erect. He coos appreciatively at her dismal handjob and poor rhythm, as if he hasn’t had better in the very recent past. He makes no secret of his half-lidded glances toward Virus, even once Shinohara seems to get the hang of it.

“You’re a quick learner, Shinohara-san,” Virus says, watching the movement of her hand over the length of Trip’s shaft.

“Unlike some,” Trip mutters with a lust-filled flicker of his eyes toward his partner. Virus lifts an eyebrow. Clearly that is for his benefit, but up to this point, their relationship hadn’t moved in that direction for a reason. Virus’ interest in Trip is in his usefulness as a partner, as a tool. If Trip has designs on him for something else, then that is simply his own mistake.

Trip begins to pant as she twists her fingers over the head. His fingers curl on the black countertop. She is jerking him off with something like zeal now, her small fist sliding over his member. A bead of clear pre-cum appears at the tip of his dick and it quickly disappears between Shinohara’s fingers, polishing Trip’s flesh.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Trip says, and this time, there is an element of truth behind the hoarseness in his voice. His eyes are still on Virus, burning into him. The words are not for Shinohara, and haven’t been for quite some time. Each theatrical moan is not for her benefit, but is a performance for Virus.

Virus’ eyes glitter and he steps forward, resting his hands on the lab bench. “Shinohara-san, perhaps you could try moving your wrist like this,” and he rolls his hand in a circular motion. Trip shoots him a glare, but as she modifies her technique, he can’t deny that it’s good. Really good. Too good to be a simple guess.

Somehow, Virus knows how Trip likes to be touched and rather than ever demonstrate it himself, he lets this inexperienced young woman touch Trip instead. Trip’s efforts to imagine it’s Virus touching him were dashed by the coolly-offered suggestion to Shinohara. When Trip’s eyes meet Virus’ again, he briefly sees a small sneer of satisfaction on the older man’s face.

It’s not long before Trip begins to thrust up into Shinohara’s hand, desperate for at least release from an orgasm, if not from Virus’ coldly triumphant stare. She doesn’t seem aware that anything has changed between them, naively watching Trip’s reactions and continuing to tug roughly at his hard-on without any regard for how close he actually is.

Trip lets out a ragged grunt and then a strangled yell, his hand clenching on the table. His eyes catch Virus’ as he spills himself on the lab floor; Virus meets his gaze silently, giving him the same plastic smile he reserves for people that must be tolerated but no more than that. Shinohara makes a surprised yelp at the sudden spurt of cum out of Trip’s cock, snatching her hand back and looking at him in shock as it continues to spasm, dripping onto the linoleum.

Trip sighs in relief, if not defeat. His dick is already softening, and Shinohara looks at her hand and then at Trip.

“Think you got enough information?” Trip asks roughly, tucking himself back into his trousers.

“I…”

“I’m sure that Shinohara-san has all the specifications she needs to create an accurate replica,” Virus interjects.

“I… yes, I should be able to sculpt…”

“Good,” Trip says irritably, his playful mood gone. He zips himself up and hops off the stool, tugging his suspenders back down and clipping them back into place. Trip walks toward the door of the lab, pushing the door open and walking out into the hall.

“Well, then,” Virus says, “we look forward to the submission of your new module, Shinohara-san.”

And he turns and walks after Trip, his shoes clicking hollowly on the floor.  
  


* * *

 

 **Memorandum**  
 **Circulate to:** Robotics, SHINOHARA Chie  
 **RE:** Module 1465, Project Adonis

Thank you for your recent submission of an improved module to the project. After review at the highest levels of management, your module has been personally approved for inclusion on the working prototype, Model Number **R-2E-054.**

If this module is within acceptable operating parameters on the prototype project, it may be included in production runs of the Auxiliary Light-duty Personal Humanoid Automaton (ALPHA). A small bonus will be awarded to you for your assistance in making TOUE International the leader in humanoid robotics in Japan and around the world.

Regards,

Management.


End file.
